Castaway Promises
by 1destiny
Summary: Five boys at South Park High are nearing the end of their senior years. Many changes have occurred over the years, but none could split up the main four. But a new challenge has arisen. When a transoceanic trip goes terribly wrong, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, and Butters find themselves lost and alone. Can they survive this as friends? Or will the pressure break them one by one?


25

The morning warning bell began it's scheduled outburst at exactly five minutes until eight in South Park High School. That was five minutes to get to class or Vice Principal Withers would be all over your ass, and heaven help the poor children who didn't have excuse notes. Kyle Broflovski winced at the sound. He had complained to his friends (and Cartman) numerous times about having a locker directly under one of the bells. Every morning it felt like a couple of Tweek's underpants gnomes were beating on his eardrums with Thor's hammer. It freakin' sucked. He rolled his eyes at the obnoxiously loud bell and continued his unloading of books from his backpack. He was slightly startled when a body slammed itself against the metal door of the locker beside his, but a quick glance up put him at ease. There was no mistaking the the well built form and lazy style of his best friend, Stan. He didn't even have to see his face to know it was him.

"Hey, man. How's it hanging?"

Kyle was opening his mouth to reply when once again he was taken by surprise, this time by a grab to both his ass cheeks. He made a sound like a squeaky dog toy being stepped on and stood up stalk straight, hands flying to cover his butt as he whirled to face a boy who was laughing hysterically behind him. It was Kenny, with Cartman not far behind him, also snickering and muttering, "Dude, gay," snidely.

"What the _fuck_, Kenny!?" Kyle gave him a half glare. Kenny stopped laughing, though he was obviously trying to keep from snickering. Then he gave up and just let himself laugh a bit more.

"Sorry, not sorry, dude," he snickered. "It was just there and so available. And it made me remember something. You guys recall that time in fourth grade when we drew nipples on Cartman's ass and took a picture to sell to the sixth graders? They totally bought that it was Stan's mom's rack."

They were all chuckling now. Their childhoods had been far from typical, but hell, were they memorable. Those were good times… mostly. But that was just how things were when you grew up in South Park, Colorado: where Murphy's law was the _only_ law.

The four of them had come along way since their youthful escapades into all sorts of trouble. Cartman had continued on with the debate club all the way through elementary and middle school, finding it to be something he actually had quite a knack for. In high school, he had climbed the ranks to captain of the team, beating out Wendy for that top spot. He was still much heavier than other boys his age, but it was no longer just flab hanging everywhere. The weight was more evenly distributed, and some of it was even muscle. His personality was the same as ever, though, much to Kyle's distaste.

Kyle had done pretty well for himself as well. He had kept straight A's throughout his entire academic career. Honor roll, advanced classes, and a part-time job tutoring other students, Kyle even found time for sports. Despite not being what most would consider tall, Kyle had a solid spot on the high school basketball team. He was skilled, but he wasn't team captain. Not like Stan.

Stan was the school's star quarterback and captain of the South Park Bulls(Elementary=Cows, Middle=Steers, High=Bulls) football team. His grades were average and he had been dating Wendy on and off since elementary school. They usually went through a breakup every two or three months or so, only to make up soon after. This current year was a record; he and Wendy had been a package for six months now, and things seemed to be going well.

Kenny's life had been hard. In middle school, his father had been arrested for a drunk driving incident that had resulted in the deaths of three people, one of which being his older brother. His mother held two jobs and was rarely home any more, so Kenny had really taken up the care of his little sister, Karen. Sometimes, when she seemed really down, he would break out his old Mysterion costume to cheer her up. She had found out long ago who he was, but still loved 'Mysterion' very much, and from time to time still called him her guardian angel. Kenny could be bad and rugged, but around his sister he might as well have been a pussycat. Over all, Kenny's grades were on the low end, but he was passing. He didn't do any extracurricular activities, and was just as dirty minded as ever.

These four had stuck together through everything South Park had to throw at them, and were only months away from embracing adulthood. Halfway through senior year already; how time flies.

"Okay, okay." Kyle stopped laughing and rolled his eyes. "Can I finish putting my books away now? Without you groping me, preferably."

"Yeah, sure." Kenny leaned on the locker on the other side of Kyle's, blond hair a mess as usual.

"Thanks." He returned his attention to the task at hand and shut his locker with a customary 'SLAM' when finished. "Okay, let's-"

"Hey, Stan?"

Four pairs of eyes turned to the source of the new voice.

Wendy Testaburger stood before them.

Wendy had grown into quite the catch. She was beauty, personality, and brains, and nearly the entire male student body was inherently jealous of Stan for having arguably the best girl in the whole school in his arms. In fact, no one could recall Stan ever dating anyone else, even while Wendy had no problem with moving from boy to boy. But in the end she always came back to Stanley. People likened them to magnets: either attracted to one another or fighting to get away from one another. They were, pretty much, the text book example of the relationship described in Katy Perry's song "Hot n' Cold".

"Oh, hey, Wendy." Stan was immediately standing up straight and smiling. She smiled back. "What's going on?"

"Not too much. I wanted to thank you for the movie you took me to on Saturday. It was sweet of you to take me to one I wanted to see, even though you were obviously bored out of your mind."

"Aw, no problem, Wen. Look, we should head to class. The final bell is going to be ringing really soon."

"Well, actually wanted to talk with you, Stan. Can I steal you away for a few minutes?"

Stan blinked. "Now? But we'll be late."

"Oh well. Just tell your teacher you had an emergency or something."

"That makes it sound like I peed myself."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Someone says emergency and you think personal accidents?"

"Well yeah, kinda."

She smiled and shook her head. "Charming, Stanley. Just come on."

"But-"

"For the love of God," Cartman cut in, rolling his eyes and folding his arms, "Would you two PAH-LEEZ get a room. Stop eye fucking each other in the hallway and go talk in a closet or something. Spare everyone else the vomit." He gave Stan a slight shove, and, after a moment more of hesitation, the boy and his girlfriend headed off on their own while the remaining three went to class.

"What do you think she wanted to talk to him about?" Kyle asked the other two—mainly Kenny.

"Well she's either going to seduce him into fucking her in the janitor's closet," Kenny conjectured, "Or she's going to break up with him again."

"Pfft, I'll bet you both fifty bucks it's the second one," Cartman sneered. Kyle had to agree that it was a safe bet, but he was hoping against the odds that that wasn't the case… even if part of him…

"But they've been together for a seriously long time, now. They've been stable. She wouldn't cut it off when it's going so well."

"Earth to Kyle! This is Wendy, we're talking about. She only cuts it off when it _is_ going well, you stupid Jew." Kyle could just hear the eye roll. "And you know what that means. It means she's gonna crush his heart and leave us to pick up the pieces." And once again, Kyle had to agree. Whenever Stan and Wendy broke up, it meant weeks of bad news. It had become apparent at the age of ten that Stan was highly susceptible to extreme bouts of depression, and that he was terrible at handling it. The last time there had been a breakup, Kyle had found Stan drunk off his ass outside Wendy's house. He had arrived just in time to stop the idiot from going up and ringing the doorbell.

Depression led Stan to underaged drinking, and when Stan was drunk, no one was happy.

Wendy was just too fickle sometimes.

They passed through the doorway into the classroom of Mr. Edmonds, their home room teacher. Edmonds taught American history and had a sense of humor dryer than an old lady's uterus. His bald head would flash in the lumination of the artificial lights as he droned on and on about constitutional amendments. He also assigned the longest papers and smelled constantly of stinky cheese. He was—for obvious reasons—not a popular teacher.

The three boys took their seats just as the bell rang and Edmonds stood up, clearing his throat to get the attention of every student in the class on him. "Alright, I'll take role and then everyone take out something to work on. I don't want any talking." He spoke in his monotone voice that shared many properties with the dulcet hums of the school ventilation system. One by one, names were called and answered with the rhythmic repetition of the word, "here". Same old, same old.

Once role was called, talking immediately became taboo. Mr. Edmonds sat back in his chair, feet on his desk as he read a book with no visible title or cover illustration. He always had a book like that. The students had theorized that it was actually porn in there, but no one had been able to confirm that, even though Kenny had tried, and had ended up with detention for a week for looking through a teacher's desk. Kenny was still determine to prove or bust the theory.

Each of the students produced their own quiet activity. Kyle worked on some last minute homework while doing his best to ignore Cartman who was chucking wads of paper at him. Cartman was having fun thinking up insults to write in the balls he chucked at Kyle; even if the Jew didn't read them, it felt good just to write them down. Kenny was fervently drawing a picture on a piece of paper. Recently, he had been trying to make a Mysterion comic book. He didn't have a real reason for doing so other than just wanting to have something not totally, mind-numbingly boring to focus on.

In the comic, the hero was a super natural being sent to protect the life of a little girl. But he failed and was then condemned to ever walk the earth in misery. But he uses his curse and becomes a brooding super hero that can't be killed. With a fiery passion, Mysterion hunts down the men who killed his first and last charge and rescues other innocents from the terrors of the world.

Kenny was pretty damn proud of the plot he had thought up, and thought his art wasn't too bad either. Maybe it would turn out good enough for him to publish. Then he would become a famous comic creator, like Stan Lee. Then he could support his family on the fruits of his labors and pull them out of the ever-present grasp of poverty that they had been strangled in since before he was born, as his comics and his hero took off and became a main stream thing. There would be fan clubs and cosplays, and eventually a movie… hah. He knew he was kidding himself, but a guy could dream.

The room was near silent so it was no wonder when everyone jumped as the door swung open and the lone figure of Stan Marsh entered.

At the sight of Stan there were three mental groans. Stan's eyes were fogged over and empty and his mouth was drawn down into a dejected frown. That was the 'Wendy just broke up with me again' face. Looked like they would be spending that weekend trying to cheer up mister gloomy.

"Stanley Marsh," That was another thing about Mr. Edmonds: he never used shortened names or nicknames. It was never Stan, or even Stanley; no, it was always Stanley Marsh, or Kyle Broflovski, or Eric Cartman, or Kenneth McCormick. Even Butters—a name used by all other staff members—was, "Mister Leopold Stotch" to Mr. Edmonds. Edmond's continued addressing Stan. "You are late. Do you have a note?"

"No, sir," Stan said flatly. "There was… a personal emergency."

"Well, emergency or not, I'll still have to refer you to the Vice Principal. Please take your seat and take out something to work on silently."

Stan trudged toward the back of the room and flopped into his chair and put his head down.

Kyle watched him for a second, then decided to try to communicate. From his pocket, he withdrew his cellphone. He held it under his desk—even though he probably could have gotten away with it being in clear sight; it wasn't like Edmonds was paying attention anymore anyway—and opened a group message between the four of them. Then he sent the message.

**[KYLE]: Hey, Stan. What happened?**

He watched Stan pick up his head as the other felt his phone vibrate, and watched as he read the screen with dead eyes. He took much longer than usual to reply.

**[STAN]: She did it again****…**

**[ERIC]: Hah. Told you guys. Pay up, Kyle!**

**[KYLE]: Stuff it, fatass! I never agreed to your stupid bet. Why would I bet on my best friend getting his heart broken?**

**[ERIC]: BECAUSE it has happened a million and one times before and is one of the safest bets ever in the history of gambling.**

**[KENNY]: Yeah, he****'****s got a point. I would totally bet on that. Best friend or not, there****'****s some major dough to be had there.**

**[ERIC]: That****'****s ****'****cuz you****'****re poor, Kenneh. :p**

**[KENNY]: Go fuck your cat.**

**[ERIC]: You leave Mr. Kitty out of this!**

**[KENNY]: If the pussy you****'****re doing has claws and eats cat food, you****'****re doing it wrong.**

**[KYLE]: Shut up, both of you! This is not important right now.**

**[ERIC]: W/E. Jews are such killjoys.**

**[KYLE]: You okay, Stan? **

**[KENNY]: Doesn****'****t look okay. He looks like shit.**

**[STAN]: I don****'****t know****… ****I just don****'****t.**

**[STAN]: And thanks, Kenny. That****'****s real nice.**

**[KENNY]: Just saying.**

**[KYLE]: I****'****m sorry this happened, man. But cheer up. It****'****s not the end of the world.**

**[STAN]: It****'****s the end of my world.**

**[ERIC]: Dude, you****'****re making me sick with all this sappy shit. Just get it into your head that your girlfriend is a fucking slut.**

**[STAN]: Shut your mouth, Cartman!**

**[KENNY]: He****'****s got a point, Stan. Wendy is kinda a player. I mean, she****'****s dumped you just because she wanted to be with another guy like ten times now. **

**[ERIC]: Yeah. Wake up and smell the hormones, lover boy.**

**[KYLE]: They have a point, Stan****… ****I don****'****t think it****'****s you that****'****s the problem in your relationship. It****'****s just the way she is.**

**[STAN]: ****…**

**[KYLE]: I think you****'****re pretty great, Stan. People like you a lot. You****'****re athletic, nice, funny, and a really great friend. Anyone would be lucky to date you.**

**[ERIC]: Hah! GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!**

**[KYLE]: Fuck you, fatass. I****'****m trying to cheer him up.**

**[ERIC]: Why not just kiss him. I****'****m sure that will cheer him up.**

**[KYLE]: Why are you always such an ass hole, Cartman? Can****'****t you see our friend is suffering?**

**[ERIC]: Well our friend is being a total pussy about this. He needs do just get over Wendy already.**

**[KENNY]: You****'****re just saying that because you****'****ve been boning for Wendy since Elementary debate. You so want to fuck her.**

**[ERIC]: What? Fuck that. I wouldn****'****t get my dick anywhere near that skank. She probably has all sorts of diseases! Just ask Stan. Hey, Stan, Wendy has herpes, right?**

**[STAN HAS LEFT THE CONVERSATION]**

**[KYLE]: Way to go, you two. We were supposed to be helping him.**

**[KENNY]: Dude, in the long run we are helping him. If he could just get over her, he****'****d be way happier.**

**[KYLE]: Well now we aren****'****t helping anyone. I swear, if he turns up drunk on my doorstep again, I****'****m blaming you two.**

**[ERIC]: If he does turn up drunk on your doorstep, make sure to send pictures.**

**[KYLE]: And why would I do that?**

**[ERIC]: So I can put them up on the internet. Duh.**

**[KYLE]: Hell, no! Stan****'****s mom would kill him if she found out. And it would probably cause some big scene.**

**[ERIC]: And I should care about that, why?**

**[KYLE]: Forget it, fatso. I am not sending you any sort of pictures.**

**[KENNY]: You know, it****'****s actually really fun just to read the messages you two send. You two squabble like an old married couple.**

**[ERIC]: Shut up, Kenneh!**

**[KYLE]: Shut up, Kenny!**

**[KENNY]: I rest my case. ;p**

Kyle didn't want any part of this conversation any more, so he left the messaging group and sent a new text just to Stan.

**Hey. Stay for basketball practice today. Let****'****s walk home together.**

And he received a very short answer.

**K.**

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Stan had managed to avoid seeing Wendy the rest of the day. He did and didn't want to see her, but mostly didn't. He was just too down to make any sort of effort to fathom why it had come to this again. He just let his body coast through the day for him. After the end-of-day bell released the tide of students anxious to get home, he walked with Kyle to the gym so he could wait while his friend practiced. He had nothing to do; football season was over and basketball was nearly through too. For a brief moment, he allowed his mind to whirl to life, thinking about how odd it felt to know there would be no more high school football seasons for him. This was the last stretch of childhood for him and his friends. He had already made plans with Kyle. They had agreed to both try to get into Colorado Springs University (CSU), and then they could room together. It was a comforting thought that he'd have his best friend, even after they left high school. Honestly, it was hard to imagine life without Kyle being there somewhere.

His mind drifted back into inactivity and he watched the team run drills for the rest of practice.

When the coach, Mr. Bullworth, decided to call it a day, the boys went to hit the showers in the locker room, except for Kyle, who decided he could be a little sweaty. He would shower when he got home. "Ready to go, Stan?" He asked, and Stan nodded.

The two of them plodded off the school grounds and made for home. Kyle struck up a conversation.

"So did you get that video I emailed to you the other day?" He asked. He wanted to keep Stan's mind busy so that he wouldn't A) go into empty shell depressed mode and B) so that he wouldn't be able to focus solely on Wendy.

Stan nodded. "I did."

"What did you think."

"It was cool, I guess. Buzzfeed videos are always pretty good."

"Yeah. I have another one to show you. Kenny emailed me one about girls trying on guys underwear. It's cool. I really appreciated the gender cultural exchange."

Stan smiled despite himself. "Really dude? Girls in dude's underwear, and your first thought isn't, 'hmm, sexy', it's 'gender cultural exchange'?"

"Well I never said the girls were sexy."

"Were they?"

Kyle chuckled. "Some of them."

"… okay. Show me."

Kyle fished his phone out of his pocket and the two of them stopped walking. He noticed that, even though Stan still looked upset, he no longer had dead fish eyes, which was good. He easily navigated over to the email app and opened it, and was about to open the message from Kenny when the app refreshed and a new email appeared in the inbox. It was from The World Educational Exchange Program, subject line: CONGRATULATIONS. Kyle stared at it for a few seconds.

"…What? What is it?" Stan looked over Kyle's shoulder. "'Congratulations'? Did you win something?"

"One way to find out." He opened the email and began to read aloud.

"Congratulations, Kyle Broflovski. Your group of five has been selected to take part in an educational exchange with five students your age located in London, England. The details are as follows: On the fifth of next month, you and your group will bored a plane destined for the United Kingdom. The air fare, lodging, and basic meals are free of charge. You will spend one week in England, receiving tours and cultural learnings from the five other students. When the week is up, you will return to your home town. Two weeks following, the five English students will arrive in your home town, where you will show them around and tech them. Please be sure to have all party members under the age of eighteen get the attached permission slip signed by a parent or guardian. We hope to see you all take part in this wonderful, once in a lifetime opportunity. Sincerely yours, WEEP (the World Educational Exchange Program)."

"Hey," Kyle looked up at the sound of Stan's voice. Stan had taken out his own phone and was looking at the screen with surprise, "I have the same email!"

Something was coming back to Kyle; something they had done at the beginning of the year. He remembered being told by Mr. Edmonds to break into groups of five and write an essay together about the state of the world. It was the only actual work they had ever done in homeroom.

"Dude, I think we won that essay contest," Kyle said, disbelief written all over his face. "Remember the beginning of the year? The four of us, plus Butters wrote that essay along with the entire senior class." They both remembered it well. They had been told the essay was for a government program, and wasn't part of their grade. None of them had taken it seriously and they had written something totally bogus. They had turned it in and hadn't given it a thought since.

"Wait, you mean that piece of shit actually won?" He asked incredulously.

"Looks like it."

"…Well fuck."

"Yeah…"

"Think the others know?"

"Probably not. I'll call Kenny."

He was halfway through his contact list when he glanced back up at Stan and noticed that he once again looked depressed.

"Stan? What is it now?" He questioned, his eyebrows knitting together.

"…I…I don't want to go to England."

Kyle couldn't believe what he was hearing. "…Dude… you can't be serious.

"I am serious." 

"But… Why?"

"Just because."

"…Well don't make up your mind just yet," he instructed, going back to his phone and calling the three remaining members of the group. There was no way he was going on an international trip without Stan, especially where Cartman was involved. They arranged to meet at Kyle's house fifteen minutes from then. "C'mon, Stan." Kyle patted his shoulder and the two of them fell into step once again.

Cartman was waiting on the doorstep when they arrived. He had been sitting on the step, but stood quickly when he saw them coming.

"This had better not be a joke, Kyle." He said in lieu of a greeting.

"It's not. This is totally real! We all have the chance to go on an all expense paid trip to London!" He said, looking Cartman straight in the eyes.

It seemed that that was the only confirmation the larger boy needed. "Oh YES!" He pumped his fist into the air. "Dude, me and Kenny are totally gonna wiz on Big Ben!"

Kyle thought about telling Cartman off, but decided it really wasn't worth his time. "Come on inside"

The three of them entered the house and occupied the living room, Kyle and Cartman talking to pass the time until the other two got there and stan sitting silently, looking like a salted slug in an armchair.

The chat between Kyle and Cartman quickly degenerated into an argument about respecting foreign cultures, and it was a relief when the sound of knocking came from the front door. Kyle excused himself to go get it and let Kenny inside. "Glad you're here now. Where's Butters? I thought he would be coming with you."

"Butters is grounded again," Kenny explained. "I stopped by his house on my way here. apparently he isn't allowed to leave his room."

"Seriously? He's seventeen! I stopped getting grounded when I was twelve."

"Well this is Butters we're talking about. Look, I've got him on Skype." Kenny held up his phone so Kyle could see the screen. The familiar blond baby-face that was Leopold Stotch looked back at him with its usual sheepish smile.

"H-hey there, Kyle."

"Hey Butters," He sighed. "Well I guess this will work. Come on back into the living room." He took Kenny and his virtual pet Butters back to where the others were waiting.

"Kenny!" Cartman exclaimed, "Thank God you're here. I had a great idea, but Kyle is being a dirty jew and ruining everything!"

"Cartman, you can't steal crates of tea from a factory and dump them in the ocean! You'd get arrested and probably get all of us arrested along with you."

"Shut up, Kyle. Obviously, you aren't a true American patriot like I am!"

"Wow," Kenny broke in, a smile creeping across his face, "I can feel serious sexual tension coming off you guys. How about you just make out already and spare all of us the discomfort?"

"Oh fuck you, Kenny," Kyle rolled his eyes. Kenny just continued to smile.

"If I had fucked someone for every time someone said fuck me, I-"

"You'd have even more STD's than you already do," Cartman snickered. Kenny turned his attention to Cartman, raising an eyebrow.

"…Well, since I have accumulated so many, I have no problem sharing a 'fuck you' with you. So fuck you, Cartman."

"Well fuck you, Kenny. And fuck Kyle, too."

"Hey! Why am I suddenly in this?"

"'Cause you're a jew."

"That doesn't even make any sense!"

"So? Fuck you!"

"No! Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Uh, h-hey, fellas? Kenny? I can't see what's going on with the phone facing the carpet like this. …Oh, hey, Kyle, you have a nice carpet, but you should r-really vacuum it. I can see all sorts of, of ittsy-bittsy trash and stuff."

"Heh, Kyle is the only trash on this carpet."

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck y-"

The sound of a throat being cleared drew all the eyes in the room to the sound's source (Except for Butters who was still being forced to admire the carpet). Thirteen year old Ike was standing there in the entrance of the living room.

"You should probably stop saying that," He said, looking at Kyle, "Mom is bringing in some groceries. She'll be in here any second and I don't think you want her to hear you say that."

"Er, you're right. Thanks, Ike." Kyle's adopted brother nodded and headed up to his bedroom to check if any of his YouTube subscriptions had posted a new video.

Ike had been right; only thirty seconds after the first family member had disappeared, the second made her appearance. Mrs. Broflovski looked into the living room, her arms laden with paper bags full of groceries. "Why, hello, boys. Having a meeting of some kind?"

"Yeah, mom. We've won a trip to England, so we're going to talk about that."

"Okay, Well I'm going to- WHAT WHAT WHAAAAAT!?" She stopped dead, staring at her oldest son. "Did you say you've won a trip to England?"

"Yeah, mom. That's what I said. We won the essay competition that everyone had to enter at the beginning of the year, so we get to go on an exchange trip for a week. And actually, I'll need you to sign a form saying I can go, since I'm not eighteen yet. That okay?"

Sheila blinked, head spinning from all the news that had just been dumped on her. "So…wait, this is a school trip?"

"No, not exactly, mom," He said, a hand drifting up to mess with his curly red mop. "It's kinda like… like independent study."

"So the four-"

"Five," Kenny inserted, holding up his phone so Butters could finally see everything again.

"Hello, Mrs. Broflovski," He greeted, his likeness waving at her from the screen, "You're looking well." Butters: ever the polite one.

"Oh, hello, Butters. Thank you." She smiled briefly at the phone before looking back up at her son—he was now quite a bit taller than her, though that didn't stop her from being intimidating. "The five of you would be going across the Atlantic to a foreign country all by yourselves? No chaperones? No supervision? Just five underage boys?"

"Stan's eighteen," Kyle tried, but he could already see his mother becoming stubborn in an answer that he knew he wouldn't like. "Mom, please. I'm not a kid anymore."

They locked eyes for a while, staring each other down. For once, Sheila looked away first, sighing through her nose. "We'll talk about it when your father gets home."

"Okay. Thanks mom."

"Don't thank me yet. I still don't know how I feel about you traveling abroad alone." And with that she shook her head and walked into the kitchen. Kyle knew he had won. His dad would be on his side with this, and his dad could get his mom to sign the form. He smiled and turned back to his friends.

"Okay, let's talk about what we should pack and-"

"Actually, Kyle," Kenny wasn't smiling anymore. He looked serious."I really just came to tell you I probably can't go."

"Yeah, me neither," Butters said. "No way would my parents let me go. I'm grounded."

"What? You guys don't want to go either?" Kyle suddenly felt ill. If Kenny and Butters also didn't go, then it would just be him and Cartman. Oh God, no. He couldn't handle that.

"It's not that I don't want to go," said Kenny, free hand stuffing itself into the pocket of his parka, "It's that I can't go. I can't leave my sister for a week."

"She's fifteen, Kenny."

"Yeah, I know. But she has this thing about being alone. Mom works almost twenty-four-seven. Karen would freak out if she had to be alone. You know I wouldn't give up anything free lightly, but I have a responsibility here. Come on, it's not like you need me. You've got Stan to go with you, right?"

"No, because Stan isn't going."

"What?"

"He told me he doesn't want to go."

Kenny looked at Stan, eyebrows rising almost to his hair line. "Seriously, Stan? How come?"

"Because he's butt hurt about Wendy." Cartman rolled his eyes. "Isn't that obvious? He doesn't want to go because he just wants to sat home and cry into a bucket of ice cream because his stupid slut of a girlfriend dumped him again. It's fuckin' pathetic." Stan shot Cartman a glare but said nothing.

"Cartman's right," Kenny said, "It is kinda pathetic, dude."

"Shut up, I don't need your criticism," Stan mumbled.

"Nah. You know how hard it is to shut me up," Kenny provided. "Now listen, wallowing in self pity isn't healthy, dude. Think about how many times this has happened. Do you really think the two of you are going to stay apart for very long? In a month she's gonna come crawling back to you, the two of you are gonna suck some face, and it will all be good again. Would you really give up a once in a life time trip like this to moan about a girl you've been dating on and off since elementary school?"

"…" Stan looked thoughtful, and Kyle could tell Kenny's words were getting through to him.

"Yeah. And this trip would do you some serious good. You need to get away from this place. Too many things around here make you think of Wendy. Once you're away from South Park and your mind is focusing on something else, you'll feel way better."

"I…I don't know. I mean, the trip doesn't sound all that interesting anyway. We would just be subjected to boring tour after boring tour."

"Are you really that stupid?" Cartman snapped. "Do you really thing we'd actually do this thing how they want us to? No way in hell! I am not spending my free trip to England staring at boring land marks that, if I did actually want to see them, I could just open Google Earth. No way, man. I'm ditching those limey bastards the moment our plane lands, and I'm gonna spend my free vacation how I want to. I do what I want!"

"Yeah, That does sound more fun than following around some British kids as they tell us fun facts about Buckingham palace," Kenny chuckled. "Seriously, man, you should go. Don't waste this chance."

"What do you say, Stan?"

"…Yeah. Yeah, I guess I'll go." He said at last, even breaking a smile. Kyle felt a wave of relief wash over him. He wouldn't be stuck with Cartman on a plane for several hours. He would have his super-best-friend right there with him. Now, as for Kenny…

"Hey, Kenny, about your sister."

"What about her?"

"I've got an idea," Kyle said. "Why not see if she could stay here at my house while we're away? My parents like your sister, and she and Ike get along. My parents could take her to school and everything, and she wouldn't have to be alone. Plus, then your mom could have some time to herself as well."

Kenny thought about this. "…I guess that would work. I would have to ask my sister, but," his face began brightening again, "I think it's a great idea, Yeah!"

Good, so now Kenny was able to go too. That only left…

"Aww, shucks." Butters' voice emanated from the speakers on Kenny's phone. "I'm happy for you guys. Make sure to send me a post card or something."

"What are you talking about, Butters?" Cartman asked, arms crossed.

"We-well, I can't go. I'm grounded, after all. So I just hope all of you have a real good time, and it'd be awful nice if you'd pick me up a souvenir or, or something."

"Butters, to hell with being grounded," Now Kenny rolled his eyes. "You can't miss this."

"B-b-but my parents would never sign my-my form-"

"God damn it, Butters, do we have to tell you everything?" Cartman snapped. "Just forge your dad's signature on the form!"

"B-but ain't that illegal?"

"Only if you get caught. Come on, Butters, nothing bad is gonna happen if you come. You'll leave for England grounded and you'll come back from England grounded. What's the worst your dad could do, ground you again?"

"Yeah," Kyle said, even though he usually didn't approve of such methods. "You deserve this, Butters. You wrote a fifth of that essay that won us this trip. It was your idea to send clowns to the middle east to make everyone happier, and to have Kim Kardashian do a photo shoot with the homeless so they could sell the pictures to magazines and have money to live off of. You deserve this."

Butters thought about this. "Well…well I guess you're right." His face became the very definition of determination. "I-I mean, it's not like he'll, he'll beat me or anything. I might as well have some fun while I'm still young. Yeah! I'm going no matter what, and there's nothing he can do about it!"

"God damn it, Butters, you're such a pussy," Cartman mumbled.

But everything was okay now. The five of them would be going. The trip would be awesome.

"alright," He said, getting ready to close up their meeting. "Everyone get those signatures and pack everything you'll need. We're leaving in two weeks. Let's do this!"

"Ugh, such a lame pep talk," Cartman sneered.

"Fuck you, fatass. Just do it."

"Yeah yeah. Screw you guys, I'm going home."

That ended their meeting.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

That night, at the Broflovski dinner table, there was no shortage of conversation. Once Gerald had come home, the talking began.

"I really don't know how I feel about this, Gerald," Sheila said, gesturing with her fork as she spoke. "I mean, I know he's almost eighteen, but what if something happened. He'd be so far away."

"But mom, you've let me travel abroad before, remember?" Kyle asked in between a bite of chicken and rice. "In third grade I went to the Amazon with that choir group."

"Yes, and you became lost in the jungle after that"

"Only because of that crazy director lady," he pointed out. "Besides, that was the Amazon, this is London. You really can't compare the two. I mean, one is a God forsaken jungle full of animals that want to kill you and the other is a well developed city with history, culture, and an effective law enforcement system."

"He's got a point, Sheila," Gerald said. "He is almost an adult, and England is a bit less dubious. This could be a good experience for him. He'd be with his friends, so he isn't going alone, either. You know we can trust Stanley to look out for him." Both Kyle's parents adored Stan, and Kyle knew Stan's family adored him. It was the kind of family trust that could only be established after years upon years of constant friendship. They practically shared families, and that came in handy. If ever one of them wanted to do something, they just had to mention that the other would be there too, and usually they were free to go. It seemed the same would apply to this trip.

"You're right, Gerald." Sheila sighed, lips pursing. She was trying to contain her motherly instinct to say 'absolutely not'. "I guess you can go, Kyle. But on one condition. You must call me every night you're there. I want to make sure you're alright."

"Sure, mom. I'll call you." Kyle could hardly contain his grin. There was so much to look forward to.

"And make sure to bring me something from England," Ike said, poking his brother.

"Sure, Ike. I'll bring you back something nice," Kyle promised.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"So, anything interesting happen today, Stan?" The Marsh family was meeting over a dinner of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

"Yeah, kinda," Stan said, pushing his potatoes around his plate with his fork. He could feel Sparky's eyes on him as the dog silently begged for a morsel from the table. Sparky, his faithful, homosexual hound. "Wendy… uh… Wendy broke up with me again."

"Heh, no surprises there," Muttered Randy, earning him a disapproving look from his wife. "What? Oh come on, you can't tell me you totally didn't see that coming- OUCH!" He had been pinched under the table by Sharon.

"We're sorry, Stan. But you know things will get better soon. Did anything else happen?"

"Yeah, actually." He put his fork down, glancing around at the two other people at the table. In the past there had been a total of five at the table, but Grandpa had finally passed on a few years previous, and Stan's sister, Shelly, had gone off to college. So now it was just Stan and his parents around the table. "The guys and I won the big essay contest, and now we get an all expense paid trip to England."

The sounds of clinking dishes slowed to a stop. His parents looked at him like he had an alien probe sticking out of his ass.

"…you won a free trip to England… from an essay contest?"

"Yep."

"And all your friends are part of this?"

"Yeah. Kenny, Cartman, Butters, and Kyle all wrote the essay with me. It was a group project."

"You never told us you were entering a contest," His mother said, not entirely sure what to make of this discovery.

"We didn't actually want to. It seemed like a really lame contest, but the whole senior class was required to team up and do it. So we did. And apparently they liked our essay. So, yeah, we won."

"…Okay." Sharon was trying to wrap her head around this. "When are you leaving?"

"In two weeks."

"I see."

Randy had already recovered by now. "Okay. Wow, this is really cool, Stan. You know, you have relatives in England."

"Really? Who?"

"Your great aunt Leslie lives in Glasgow."

"You mean great aunt Leslie, the crazy old bat with the cats?"

"Stanley!" Sharon interjected. "Don't talk about your relatives that way. Leslie is a very nice old woman."

"Yep, that's the one." Randy confirmed, making Stan smile a bit. His dad was a major goof, but he was pretty funny. "If you go to Glasgow, you should drop in, say hello and whatnot."

No way was he going to do that, but he nodded to appease his parents.

"Will you need any help packing?"

"No, mom. Thanks, but I got it."

"Okay. Remember to put your electronics in a plastic bag. It keeps it all safe and together."

"I know mom."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Butters chewed his lip anxiously as he carefully dragged a pen across a piece of paper. Beneath his hand was a form, printed from the link in the email. Beside his hand was one of his father's checks, taken from an envelope containing a bill. Butters studied the signature on the check and did his best to copy every loop and swoosh. Forging a signature was nerve wracking. What would happen if they discovered it was a fake? It made Butters sweat just thinking about it. He swallowed thickly and finished his task. He put down his pen and held up both the form and the check, comparing them side by side. It looked good to him. He really hoped this didn't backfire. He tucked the check back into its envelope and put the form into its own envelope, which he had addressed earlier. With the hard part finished, he put both envelopes under his pillow. Now all that was left to do was wait until tomorrow morning, when he would slip both envelopes into the mail box on his way to school.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Hey mom, I need you to sign something." Cartman slapped a paper down onto the kitchen counter where his mother was making dinner.

"Oh? What is it, Poopsie?" She asked, wiping her hands on a towl and looking over to read what he had put down.

"It's a form saying that I have permission to go with some educational group to England."

"England?" She looked up at him, "Eric, honey, that's an awful long way away, and we really don't have the kind of money needed to send you to the United Kingdom." She said, sounding apologetic.

"No, mom, look, it's totally okay. See, I won a contest, so the trip is totally free."

"Oh? You won a contest?"

"Yeah, mom, I won a contest. I wrote the best damn essay that's ever been written."

"Oh, Eric, that's wonderful. I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah, thanks mom. So are yo gonna sign it or what?"

"Hmm… well will you be going alone?"

"No, the guys are coming too. Kyle, Stan, Kenny, and Butters all won too."

"Oh! Okay. I guess as long as you stick with your friends it should be okay."

"Great! Thanks mom. Just sign it right on the line."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Karen looked at the paper her brother had printed out. "…Kenny?"

Kenny, seated on the couch watching TV, looked around to face her. "Yeah, Karen? What's up?"

She hesitated and decided to sit beside him. As she sat, her long brown hair swung forward and covered her face. She held the paper on her lap. "…Are you going somewhere?" The question caught Kenny off guard, and he didn't know how she had figured it out until he caught sight of the form on her lap.

"Where did you get that, Karen?"

"I found it by the computer. I think you left it in the printer." That he had. He had wanted to leave it there until their mother came home, but it seemed his sister had found it first. "So are you leaving? This says you're going to England."

Kenny sighed and scooted closer to his sister. "… Yeah. I am planning to go away for a week with my friends," he explained. "I won a free trip, and it would be a serious waste to not use it and get the most out of it. I'm arranging to have you stay with Kyle's family, though. You've met Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski, right? And Ike? They're nice people." She stared at her lap and said nothing for so long that Kenny began getting nervous. "It's not like I'm going to be gone forever, you know."

"Yeah… I know. I just… I just want to apologize."

Kenny blinked. "Okay, I forgive you. But what exactly did I just forgive you for?"

"For always holding you back." She spoke quietly and didn't look at him.

"What? Karen, no. Who said you were holding me back?"

"No one had to tell me. I can tell. I'm not blind, Kenny, or stupid. I can see that you don't do things because you don't want me to be lonely."

"But that isn't yours fault. I avoid doing things of my own free will."

"Yeah. You willingly give up your social life so you can keep me company. You always put me first."

"And I always have. Nothing's changed."

"…No. Something did change. When we…lost dad, you became even more paternal towards me. You've taken it to a new level."

"…Karen…" He heard a sniff and only then did he realize she had begun to cry. "Hey, Karen, come on, no need to cry. Look, I won't go to England, okay, Just-"

"No," She said firmly, surprising him by suddenly looking him square in the face. He could clearly see the tear trails shining across her smooth rosy cheeks. "No, Kenny. That is the last thing I want. You don't know how guilty I would feel if you missed this. I can see how badly you want to go." She wiped at her wyes with the backs of her hands. "…I miss dad, Kenny. And Kevin. I miss them both so much…" She put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. He slid an arm around behind her and rubbed her back in a comforting way.

"Yeah…I do too, Karen. I miss them too…"

"Promise me something…?"

"What?"

"Promise me that you'll come back after this trip in one piece and unharmed. If I lost you, Kenny, I don't know what I'd do."

"You won't lose me, Sis. I promise, I'll stay safe and I'll come back to you as soon as possible."

"Good. Thank you." She sat up and smiled tearfully at him. He smiled back and wiped away her tears with his own sleeve.

"You know, Karen, you're a really pretty girl, and I say this as big brother. One day you're gonna find your dream guy, your prince charming, and he's gonna sweep you off your feet. And if he drops you even once, then I'll be there to kill him for you."

She giggled. "I bet you will. You're always there for me Kenny."

"I am."

"Because you're my guardian angel."

"And I always will be."

**Hello, everyone. I hope you have enjoyed the first chapter of my newest fic. Sorry not much happened in this chapter, but it was really just an introduction to the preemptive events to get the ball rolling. My goal is to keep the fic something like one of the episodes; balancing drama and humor. There will be references and puns, and eventually some pairings. **

**So tell me, did you like my writing style? How did I do with the character dialog? Do me a favor and leave a review. Every bit of advice helps me become a better writer. Well then, until the next update. Peace out!**


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